Pilgrim by Sara Douglas

―Leagh…‖ Zared did not know what to say, but Leagh blinked away her tears and

pocketed the cube of light.

―Drago,‖ she said, and then led Zared down the stairs before them.

Drago was atop Spiredore. It was close to late afternoon now, the hour of despair well

past. He stood at the western parapets, his hands resting on the stone, the wind ruffling his hair

and clothes, watching Carlon burn.

It was both a dreadful and an awe-inspiring sight. The entire city was afire. Flames leapt

skyward through wreaths of grey and black smoke, and yet, right at the peak of the city, the

ancient Icarii palace stood unscarred and unlit.

Drago wondered at its purpose. Why was it being saved?

Directly below was Grail Lake. The Maze was very slightly more visible than it had been

earlier in the day, although it was still deep. Creatures continued to line the Lake‘s shores, but

now they were less certain. The voice had not spoken for an hour or more, and both the

patchy-bald rat and the brown and cream badger were dead.

Directionless, but still hot for the taste for blood, some of them had surrounded

Spiredore, others drifting to join them.

Drago hoped the tower‘s door was firmly bolted.

A distant rumble of collapsing masonry reached his ears, and he turned back to the

rooftop space, unable to watch any more.

Gwendylyr, Theod, Leagh and Zared stood in a small group to his left, Goldman,

WingRidge and the feathered lizard directly in front of him, but against the far parapet, the

Alaunt were curled up in an ivory pile, and Faraday…Faraday stood closest to him on his right.

Her eyes were fixed on the burning city.

―It must pain you to watch it destroyed,‖ Drago said.

Faraday‘s eyes shifted and refocused on Drago‘s face. ―On the contrary,‖ she said, her

voice hard. ―I experienced nothing but pain and betrayal in that city.‖

―And now?‖ Leagh asked, a trifle too brightly.

―We have a bare week before the TimeKeepers reach Grail Lake,‖ Drago said. ―Once

they have finally reconstituted Qeteb, nothing still walking the surface of Tencendor can be

saved. Therefore…‖

―Therefore?‖ Zared prompted.

―Therefore we have a week to empty Tencendor of all life into Sanctuary. A week.‖

―We do it the same way we emptied Carlon,‖ Gwendylyr observed.

―Yes,‖ Drago said. ―Each of you will have a region of Tencendor you shall be

responsible for. Use Spiredore and your doors. Ask Spiredore to take you to the groups of people

left in your region, group by group. Don‘t waste time moving about the land by foot. Move

everyone you can find into Sanctuary. Then, when the Demons have arrived at Grail Lake—you

will know the moment—step into Sanctuary yourself and wait for me there.‖

―Do we take the Alaunt?‖ Leagh asked.

―No. They, as the lizard, go directly into Sanctuary now. Spiredore can hunt out the

isolated groups for you.‖

―And myself and Zared?‖ Theod asked.

―You go with the hounds into Sanctuary. Your wives will rejoin you there.‖

―I cannot allow that!‖ Zared said.

―You must,‖ Drago responded, and his tone was hard and commanding enough to subdue

both Zared and Theod. ―They can move as fast without you as with you, and neither of you can

work through the Demonic Hours. If anything, you will hinder rather than help.‖

His tone softened. ―They can survive without you,‖ he said, and smiled a little to take the

sting out of his words.

―Where do we go?‖ Goldman asked.

―Goldman, you take Nor and the Island of Mist and Memory. Your territory will be the

smallest geographically, but Nor is the most heavily populated.‖

Goldman nodded, bowed, and descended the stairwell into Spiredore. His footsteps

disappeared almost instantly.

―Leagh? You shall be responsible for Romsdale, Avonsdale and Aldeni. Leagh…be

careful.‖

She nodded, kissed and hugged Zared, then she, too, was gone.

―Gwendylyr, I want you to take Ravensbund, Skarabost—also sparsely populated—and

Ichtar.‖

―And Star Finger?‖

―Yes. Empty Star Finger as well. Whatever happens, and whoever remains, make sure

they understand the implications of staying in the OverWorld when Qeteb draws breath.‖

She nodded, farewelled Theod, and was gone.

―And I?‖ Faraday asked quietly, but her face was ashen. There was only one region left.

Drago did not respond to her immediately. ―Zared, Theod? Take the Alaunt and the lizard

and go back to Sanctuary. And do not worry too much about your wives.‖

Zared snapped his fingers at the Alaunt and the lizard, who rose and moved to his side,

but Theod hesitated. He stared at Drago, stared at Carlon, then let Zared lead him and their

four-legged companions down the stairwell.

Sicarius was the last to go down, and he paused on the top step, stared at Drago and

woofed softly.

―Go!‖ Drago said, but he smiled at the hound, and Sicarius vanished.

Still Faraday stood, staring at Drago.

―WingRidge? Will you wait below for me?‖ Drago said.

As WingRidge left the rooftop, Faraday stepped up to Drago and slapped his face as hard

as she could.

―How dare you send me to—‖

―To the forest?‖ Drago asked softly. ―Faraday, the majority of the Avar, and all the

wondrous fey creatures of the forests also need to be saved. You know that with Qeteb at their

side, the Demons will turn the Avarinheim and Minstrelsea into matchsticks.‖

―Axis sent me to the forests, and so now you do the same,‖ she said, her tone hard and

bitter. ―And from there it is but one step to the final betrayal, is it not, Drago? How shall Qeteb

seize me, do you think? He has no Timozel now to work his…ah! But he has WolfStar! Yes,

WolfStar shall trick me and seize me and lead me to Qeteb where, in order to save this beloved

land,‖ her voice was heavy with sarcasm, ―you shall let me die!‖

Drago eyes narrowed. So…the Demons had WolfStar, and no doubt the Niah-thing as

well. There was something he knew should concern him deeply about that, but for the moment it

eluded him.

―You have overlooked one minor detail,‖ he said softly. ―Did not my father send you

pregnant into the forests? Should I now do the same? After all, we must make sure that Faraday

does not miss a step on her pre-ordained journey into sacrifice, must we?‖

Faraday‘s face twisted and she raised a hand to hit him again, but Drago seized it in his

own before she managed to strike him.

He dragged her closer. ―Faraday,‖ he said, and his voice had lost all its anger and was

very, very gentle. ―Will you never believe me when I say that I will not betray you?‖

―You have no choice,‖ she said. ―My betrayal is a fated thing.‖

He gathered her, still stiff and resisting, into his arms. ―No,‖ he said, ―it never, never is.‖

And he bent his head and kissed her.

Finally, he raised his head slightly, and stared into her face. ―Go fetch your wondrous

people and fey creatures into Sanctuary, Tree Friend. Complete the journey that you started so

many years ago. Lead the Avar into Sanctuary.‖

He kissed her softly again. ―And go this time knowing that the man who loves you will

never, never, betray you. Neither I nor Tencendor need your blood.‖

He lifted one of her hands, and placed it on his chest.

―Faraday, my heart is always your Sanctuary.‖

67

The Emptying

Of them all, only Goldman thoroughly enjoyed himself. He had always admired the Nors

people for their skilful enterprise, and spent many happy hours chatting to old friends as he

waved people towards wherever he‘d erected his enchanted doorway. The pirates of the Island of

Mist and Memory were just as much fun, for they were a colourful lot who never had let morals

stand in the way of a profit, and that Goldman fully appreciated. But of all the areas that he

cleared, Goldman delighted in the Complex of the Temple of the Stars the most.

Here he could indulge in his new-found fascination with mysticism to the extreme. The

priestesses, calm in crisis, were happy enough to indulge him, and Goldman wasted several

hours in their company exploring the implications of his newly acquired ―depth‖. The

priestesses, in their turn, were equally fascinated by his news of Drago and the power he

exhibited.

It would keep them, they declared, in happy contemplation for many a year.

Eventually, it was a five-year-old boy who had to rescue them from the depths of the

library and push them towards the doorway set up in the avenue leading to the now-extinct

temple.

Both priestesses and Goldman emerged from the library with the most precious of its

scrolls stuffed under arms and belts; even the small boy was pressed into carrying an extra

armful.

As they paused before the gateway, the First Priestess turned back and stared a final time

at her beloved island, then, her face stoic, she stepped into the doorway.

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